No Pink Caddy (ACE Book 1) (22 page)

“No flannel today?” I ask as I slip on my dress shoes.

“Dirty. It’s laundry day.” He helps me to my feet. “So when can I stop pulling out? Because we have now have spouge on my couch, jeans, and bed.”

I follow him through the house. “Crass, Aaron. You could’ve put on a condom. Your come. Your problem.”

He slaps my ass. “My problems are now your problems. Oh, and congrats, it’s a girl.”

“What?” I ask as I check to make sure I have all of my things.

“You said you want kids. You can help me parent a college freshman girl. You missed the fun stuff like periods, boys, bitchy little friends, and slut makeup. Now, she’s finally fun again.”

Wow! I’m going to need some time to process that one.

Parked on the street in front of Aaron’s house is something sporty and red that looks like Aaron’s compensating when he clearly isn’t. Seamus nods, tosses him the keys and disappears down the driveway.

Aaron opens my door by lifting it up. I’m thankful for the help, because I’m not sure I would have been able to figure out how to get in otherwise. He drops the door and walks around the front of the car, giving it a tap on the hood. He slides in the driver’s seat and flashes me a shit-eating grin. “Buckle up, sweetheart.”

It’s too early in the morning for this. He pulls away from the curb and I say a quick prayer that he doesn’t kill me.

He does some sort of crazy shifting, making the car purr like a kitten. His smile is cocky, and I roll my eyes.

We don’t talk the whole couple of blocks to my house. He’s too busy showing off. When I inform him that I have no parking and he has to leave the car on the street, he gives me a pouty look.

When we get inside, I turn on the shower and then show Aaron where his children’s breakfast cereal is before I go into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. When the last article of clothing is tossed into the dirty clothes hamper, Aaron opens the door and comes strolling in the bathroom.

“Just in time,” he announces as he closes the lid on the toilet and sits down, all while balancing the turquoise mixing bowl filled with cereal in one hand.

“That’s gross.” I point to the bowl as I step into the shower. “The bathroom is one of the dirtiest places in a house. You shouldn’t eat in here.”

He ignores me and keeps chomping away. “So like I asked earlier, and you didn’t answer. When can I quit pulling out?”

The warm water washes over me, and I pretend we aren’t discussing this at seven-thirty in the morning. “When you prove to me that you don’t have groupie cooties on your dick.”

“I don’t.” He pauses. “I bet I could join you in the shower and get you off in ‘Breath of Fresh Air’ minutes.”

I stick my head out of the shower, ignoring his sex invitation. “Prove it.” Closing the curtain again, I grab the shampoo bottle and squirt a bit in my hands and begin massaging it into my hair.

“Okay. It’s only a three-and-a-half minute song, but I’m that good.”

“No,” I yell, frustrated. “Prove you don’t have cooties.”

“I was tested for everything under the sun in rehab, and you’re the first person I’ve had sex with since.” It sounds like he has a mouth full of cereal. “Ball’s in your court, sweetheart.”

Chomp.

Chomp.

“Clean as a whistle and on birth control.” I step under the water spray and rinse the suds out.

“Fan-fucking-tastic. No more pulling out for this guy.”

He can’t see me, but I smile at his outrageousness.

“Next order of business.” I think he pauses to swallow. “Band is coming to town to record. I want you to meet everyone.”

“Okay,” I respond as I work conditioner through my ends.

“And you get to play mommy to my daughter.”

“What?” My head pops back around the shower curtain.

His face is lit up like Bourbon Street. “Just kidding. Jude and my sister, Grace, will be here this weekend.”

I rinse the conditioner out of my hair and think about how to phrase the next question. I come up with, “So exactly what do they know about me?”

I’m clean enough, so I shut off the water.

Seconds later, the shower curtain is pulled back and Aaron stands there with a towel. “I like this part,” he says with a childish gleam in his eye. The mixing bowl is resting next to my sink.

Standing patiently, I’m dried with such precision one would think I was breakable.

Still naked, I walk to the sink to brush my teeth. I wipe the condensation off the mirror so I can see him. Before I put the brush in my mouth, I repeat my question.

“Well, I already told you that I discussed you with Jude. So since she knows, Grace knows and my mom knows. Those three can’t even keep Christmas presents a secret. Now, the gossip rags don’t know so you probably should talk about us in code on your site. You can refer to me as Larry. But I frankly don’t care. My life is an open book, as you’d see if you Googled me.” He pauses for a second and reminds me, “except for Jude. Remember no talking about daddy’s little girl.”

I spit my toothpaste. “Just confirming . . . Jude’s okay with you dating.”

He shrugs. “As long as it’s you.”

I spit again and cup my hand, bringing water to rinse my mouth. “She doesn’t know me.”

“She follows your site. Huge fan.” His eyes grow wide.

After rinsing my toothbrush, “but she doesn’t know me. How has she behaved when other women have been around?”

Aaron walks to me and cups my breasts in his hands. “I told you that I’ve never really dated and all my relationships have been straight-up sex. You don’t believe me?”

“Surprised is all.” He begins playing with my nipples, and I slap his hands away. “Stop it.”

“Call in sick,” he continues, and my body begs me to do it. His half-smile appears again, revealing just a hint of his dimple.

“I can’t. I turned in my notice. It will look bad.”

He drops to his knees, giving me a chance to scurry out of arm’s reach.

“Wouldn’t want Michael thinking badly of you?” he says with an edge to his voice.

“Stop it.” I turn around and walk out of the bathroom.

He follows me, flopping on my bed.

“Go put your bowl up. If I come home from a long day at work and have sugar ants in my apartment, I’ll murder you.”

“My assistant can take care of my dishes.”

I can tell he’s teasing me. He gets a certain gleam in his eye, but it doesn’t change the fact that the bowl needs to find the sink. I don’t have a dishwasher but I can hand-wash it later. “Aaron, I’m losing my patience. Will you pretty please with sugary children’s cereal on top go take care of your dishes?”

“Fine,” he says, climbing off my bed, “but you better not get dressed while I’m gone.” He walks to the bathroom and then walks through my bedroom with the bowl in hand and disappears through the door.

He continues talking, “Grace runs my businesses and my life, especially while I was learning to love myself again. I gave her a couple of weeks off. And then for some reason, Jude doesn’t like me visiting her at college, so my mom and Grace have been traveling a bunch to see her. Tomorrow, I’m finally getting my right-hand woman back.”

I pull a purple dress out of the closet as he walks back into the bedroom, flopping on my bed with his hands behind his head. “Wear that one.” He motions to the material in my hands. “And no panties. I’ll take you to lunch.”

Hanging the dress back up, I grab a thong out of my drawer and make a big show of putting it on. “Wouldn’t want to go commando around Michael.” I don’t know why I say it. Michael is never in the office.

A dark cloud passes over Aaron’s face, and our playful mood is gone. “Don’t make me jealous.”

I walk over to where he’s lying and start at his feet, crawling up his body with a pause at his crotch. I run my tongue over the denim, feeling him harden. Sitting up, I press my crotch against him and lean down, kissing his lips. At first, he doesn’t respond. Kissing him deeper, I know I’m playing with fire.

Finally, he pulls me down so my naked chest is pressed against his clothed one. We kiss like this for probably longer than we should. When his hands begin to travel into my thong, I sit up, breaking our union.

“I’m sorry for being a jerk. You have no one to be jealous of.” I move off of him, standing next to my bed. I work my panties down my legs and then bend over, tucking them in the pocket of his jeans.

“What about Tripp?” he asks as he reaches between my legs, running his finger through my folds. His eyes are wide, and a small grin plays on his lips.

“Friend, or maybe former friend now. We haven’t talked since Saturday,” I reply, trying my hardest to stay unaffected. “You’re the only one who makes me wet.”

Turning my back to him, I walk to my dresser for a fresh pair of panties when I hear him slap the mattress. “Ah . . . come on, MK. You can’t kiss me like that, give me your panties, talk dirty, and then not let me fuck you. It’s against the rules.”

I open the drawer and take out another thong. “What rules?”

“The ones that I’m making up as we go along.”

I can’t believe we’ve had as much sex as we’ve had in the last day and I’m still so hot for this man, even when he’s maddening.

He unbuttons his pants and opens his fly wide. He pulls out his penis and begins to stroke it. His fist wraps around the base and slides to the tip.

“Come on, Aaron. Don’t do this,” I plead. My eyes check the clock on my bedside table. It’s seven-fifty. I have to get dressed, blow-dry my hair, and have Aaron fight traffic in his sports car to get me to work. Any other time, I’d be late, but I just submitted my notice.

He continues to pleasure himself. My tongue darts over my lips, moistening them, and Aaron’s smile says he knows he has me.

“You like this, sweetheart?” He pauses for a moment, spitting on his hand. “My dick’s this hard for you.”

Oh God . . .

“I know you like what you see. You can’t take your eyes off of it.” He reaches into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out my panties, bringing them to his nose. “God, you smell like heaven, MK.”

My mind is losing the battle to my body. At this point, I have to find relief. My thighs burn and I’m flushed. My nipples are hard peaks and tingling with desire.

Moisture appears on the head of his penis. He massages it around. “You’re the sexist thing I’ve ever seen. Standing there naked except for a scrap of silk. Your nipples are pointing straight at my dick. Brown hair, even darker because it’s wet draped over one shoulder. And your eyes, sweetheart, your eyes see my soul, and you still want me.” He pumps harder making his dick redder—angrier.

My body wins, and I slide my hand into my panties. Jeez, what he does to me. I spread the moisture around with my finger, and a little moan escapes from my lips.

“Come make love to me, MK. I can smell how much you want to. Prove how much you need me.”

I tug the elastic of my panties and they give way easily. So mad for him, I don’t remember closing the gap between us, but I’m on top of him, riding his dick. I quit thinking and just let my body feel.

He applies tight pressure to my nipples. Still sore from yesterday, it’s painful but in the best kind of way. “That’s it, MK,” he yells. “Show me I’m yours.”

I’m wild. My body moves in such a primitive, uncontrolled way that I don’t recognize myself. It’s so much more than the act of intercourse. I find the hidden chamber inside my heart—the one I’d always thought might exist but I’d never explored—and it bursts open, recognizing Aaron as the one who has always held the map to its location.

I tremble as I rock back and forth, not wanting it to end and thinking that if I don’t stop coming soon, I might die. Everything tingles—my face, my hands, my feet.

“Oh fuck,” Aaron screams as he grips my hips tightly. I become his tool as he moves me to achieve his own orgasm. His eyes roll back in his head, and his mouth hangs open as if in a silent scream.

Tears stream down my face, and I don’t bother trying to hide them. There’s something in that moment we share—an awareness. And I know in that instant he is my one. I don’t care what Google says about him or why he went to rehab. His career and the pressures that accompany it, I’ll deal with. He’s mine to keep because what I realize is that once the chamber in my heart is opened it can never be closed and only responds to him—even if he one day rejects me.

He uses his thumb to wipe away my tears. His features are soft, and his lazy smile tells me he’s happy also. “Sweetheart, I never want to see tears fall from your eyes again.”

He’s still inside me as I lie down on his chest. I’m crying so hard that it’s hard for me to catch my breath. “Thank you for making me feel alive.”

“I’m the one who should be thanking you,” he replies as he taps a beat on my back. It feels heavenly and my eyes droop, begging for a nap.

The only sounds in my apartment are the white noise from the heater kicking on and off. My body feels as if it’s made of jelly and Aaron seems just as relaxed. We’re back in bliss, and I don’t want to leave.

Then reality hits.

“I’m late for work.” I sigh.

“So?” he replies, changing the beat he’s tapping to a slower one.

“So, I have to get up and get dressed, and you can’t distract. That’s one of my rules.”

He laughs. “You don’t get to make the rules.”

I sit up, smiling like a lovesick puppy as the last tear finally escapes my eye and playfully slap his chest. “I do too. Sexist.”

He flips us so he’s on top. “That’s right, sweetheart. I make the rules, and our new rule is you’re here for my pleasure. Whenever I’m feeling randy . . .” He rubs his now flaccid dick on my thigh. “. . . you just spread your pretty little legs and I’ll have my way with you.”

“As if,” I scoff, raising my lip.

“Isn’t that why you’re quitting your job?” He’s got a teasing glint in his eye again.

“I quit my job so I can focus on my passion. . .”

Before I can add “NoPinkCaddy” his eyebrow cocks, and he rubs his dick on my leg again.

“Pig,” I call him and push him off. He doesn’t fight me.

In the bathroom, I do the best I can to clean myself and do something with my now almost dried hair. No luck. I comb it back into a ponytail and use a headband to secure my bangs.